A Whole Lotta Hatin' - Lil Bandit, Lil Rob, OG Spanish Fly

Hell Yeah

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It’s motherfuckin’Royal T homie

Up on this bitch

Fuckin’vatos yappin’homie

We don’t fuck around at Low Pro

Never fucking around

You wanna be known the way I be puttin’them down

Bucking them down fool, the way I be getting around

Hard on the city, be fellin’your pity, just hopin’there’s no tomorrow

When ever you mom’s on my mind fool, you know the time

The way I murder and slaughter you father, your mother, and your daughter

When ever you comin', you better be gunnin', before I make my motherfuckin'

??

comin'

Gang bangin’in the 6−1-9, Low Pro keep it real when we on the grind

I’m stuck up fool, I don’t hear the hater’s talkin'

I focus on chips, that bullshit keep walkin'

Got at your ex, cause baby doll keep jockin'

Got her, sprong on the dick, now that bitch is night stalkin'

Tryna be my baby’s mama, but chill baby doll

I already got one, that drive’s me up the fuckin’wall

I’m just tryna ball, and be single and free

Now watch me hope a '63 from L.A. to S.D.

It’s so ruff, so tuff, the shit we been trough (What!!)

A Whole lotta hatin', be still continue (Biatch)

Making dope track’s that still offend you (What!!)

Either we gonna hit the street’s or we gonn hit’chu (Oooooo)

I’m old school, no 20's, I roll 13's

S.D., Jersey, it’s about time you heard me Slow motion through the city

Needy with the greedy

What’chu know about the Low Profile committee

Scopin’chica’s with the tight clothes

Always spittin’tight flows, hit’chu with oh, five holes

What’chu ready to die holmes?

Watch me get my shine on, watch me get my ride on If you got beef, homie, we gonna collide homles

True gangster shit, get on my hit

Now trip if you wanna trip

But I spit flows, equivalent, 2 slug’s of the clip

Don’t slit, we got it on lock, keep da block from burnin’down

Platinum sounds, made enough cash, to put you underground

Hell yeah, got that heat, 17 shot’s across the street

I made that money, and like pussy, I’m gonna kill it Ese’s don’t play, we roll mad ??

Test the ball’s on my homie, you’ll be dead in the street of Southeast

— Lil'Rob

I wake up in the morning, can’t wait for night time

You said you got a style but it’s not quite like mine

You said your fucking real?

then let’s keep it real

You wanna be like me cause I got the rap appeal

You little leva, every time I hear your name

I laugh cause I know you, claimin’that your somethin'

You ain’t nothin', your bluffin', so ruff, so tuff

When your on the mic, put it down, like your head

When I saw you at the mall that night

Every thing you say is dumb, crack my cranium

I’ll crack you cranium, in the center, of Qualcomm Stadium

With everybody watchin', «You can only witness the thing’s you see

Not the things you hear"remember that, so stop talking

mocking what your jocking, next time you see me puto, keep on walkin'

Don’t be stopping or we’ll be boxing

You hate me, but you play me, how else would you hear this

Checkin’out my lyrics cause you fear this you can’t get near this